


Exercises in Strength

by starksborn



Series: The Curse that Falls on Young Lovers [1]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksborn/pseuds/starksborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Boss isn't unskilled, but damn if they don't try Angel's patience and buck against him every step of the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exercises in Strength

“You’re not taking this seriously enough.” 

It’s not the first time Angel has accused the Boss of this, and if they’ve learned anything about him during his training, it wont be the last. He seems overly worried about the eventual face-off with Killbane, and Pierce has mentioned the word “obsessed” more than once, even going so far as to express concern about Angel working the Boss too hard. They shrug it off, both Pierce’s well meaning concern and Angel’s insistence that they’re not trying hard enough. Ever since Johnny decided to die, it seems like all the men in their life are out of sync with them these days, and it’s taking some adjusting to find some sort of new balance. 

“I am taking this seriously, Angel,” Boss says, sitting on the floor of his sad excuse of a fighting ring. “If I wasn’t taking it seriously, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re still underestimating Killbane,” Angel says. “Unless you think you can beat him with a bunch of ill timed quips.” 

“Yeah and you’re still acting like I’m some sort of celebrity playboy that’s more worried about chipping a nail than takin’ care of business,” Boss snaps. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with a goddamn maniac, Angel.”

“Killbane isn’t your average maniac,” Angel says. “He’s methodical, and he’s sadistic. You might think this entire thing is a joke, but he’s not called The Walking Apocalypse because people think it’s cute. And you’re not ready to face someone like him, whether it’s in the ring or on the street.”

“Well, I think I am,” the Boss shrugs and gets back on their feet. 

“What you think doesn’t matter,” Angel says. “I’m the one training you. You asked for my help, and you’re gonna follow it to the letter.” The Boss rolls their eyes in response to him and all it does is irritate him more. 

Angel’s been trying to be patient with them, but the showdown with Killbane is creeping closer and closer, and it’s going to be Angel’s only shot to redeem himself. He’s a little angry that the Boss showed up on his doorstep asking for help only to turn around and in a way mock everything he’s tried to do so far. The thought of losing everything all over again, or at least what little has has now because the Boss didn’t take training seriously enough unnerves him. 

“All right, fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “Scenario, it turns out you have severely underestimated Killbane and he’s gotten the better of you. He’s been beating you senseless for the last ten minutes and he’s got you pinned on the ropes, you’re seconds away from Apoca Fists to the face. What do you do?” 

The Boss goes silent, and seems to really think on the question for a moment. Then they shrug, and somehow the gesture fills Angel with a feeling of dread, as if he knows he’s not going to like the words about to come out of the Boss’s mouth.

“I’ve never been in a situation where punchin’ someone in the dick doesn’t work,” they say. 

“You can’t be serious,” Angel says. “Actually wait, that’s the exact problem we’re having.”

“That you have no sense of humor?”

“That you don’t take anything seriously.” 

“Yeah,” Boss says. “That was the beginning of this conversation.” 

“You know what? Fine.” Angel drops his arms by his side and motions with his hands. “You think you know everything? Fine, punch me in the balls.” The Boss blinks in response, raising an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Punch me in the balls.” There’s a slight grin twitching at the corner of Angel’s lips as he speaks. “You want to prove some sort of point, and so do I. So demonstrate this genius plan of yours, and punch me in the balls.” 

“Is...is this some sort of extremely roundabout way to just get me to fondle you?” the Boss asks. “Because honestly you could have just asked like a normal person.” 

“If you don’t start punching me, I’m gonna start punching you again, so pick one.” 

“All right, okay?!” The Boss moves a little closer and makes a fist, pulling back a little and then pausing, glancing between Angel’s face and his groin as if the whole situation is some sort of a trap. They can’t help but think it seems a little ridiculous, but after riding in a car with a tiger, this is actually one of the more sane ideas Angel’s had. 

Just to mix it up a little, the Boss pulls a feint, pulling back their dominant hand mid thrust and going in for the blow with their other fist. Angel’s reaction is even quicker than expected, and his hand clamps down on the Boss’s fist just before it makes contact with him. His other hand takes hold of their forearm, and they can tell whatever’s about to come isn’t going to be pleasant. 

Angel shifts his weight a little, leaning backwards and suddenly the room is spinning and the next few seconds pass in a daze. The Boss lands hard with their shoulder against the floor and Angel holding their arm at an angle that threatens to dislocate their shoulder. 

“Do you see my point now?!” Angel snaps. “Do you understand what happens when you treat everything as a joke?” 

“Yeah,” the Boss groans. “I get your point, now let go of my fuckin’ arm.” There’s a second of hesitation, where Angel doesn’t let go of their arm and they wonder if he’s going to dislocate their shoulder anyway as some sort of punishment. Finally he releases the hold, and the Boss rolls onto their back, massaging their shoulder. Angel runs a hand over his face, rubbing at his temples and then sits down next to the Boss. 

“You’re not unskilled,” he says. He glances at them and then turns his attention on his braced knee, fingers probing it gently. “But you’re stubborn. You think you can just bum rush every one of your enemies and use brute force to take them down, and sometimes that doesn’t work. Your stubbornness is going to get you or someone else killed.” The Boss snorts a little, still rubbing their shoulder. 

“By ‘someone’ you mean you, right?” they ask. Angel shakes his head. 

“Not necessarily,” he says. “I can take care of myself.” 

He seems to have run out of criticisms to give at the moment, and the Boss takes advantage of his silence to relax for a few. The pair of them sit on the floor of his broken down gym, quietly reflecting on the situation at hand. After a while the Boss turns their attention back to their trainer. 

“You know what part of the problem we’re having is?” they ask. Angel cocks his head a little. 

“No, what?” 

“You and I handle stress differently.” 

“How do you mean?” The Boss sits up a little straighter at his question, resting their arms on their knees. 

“You’re worried about this fight with Killbane, and you have every right to be,” they say. “I’m worried about it too, and you’re not wrong in that I am a little out of my usual element with him. But the thing is Angel, Killbane for me is just one problem. I can’t let Killbane consume everything I think about like you can. Killbane is just one arm of the Syndicate. I still have to deal with Matt Miller and his fucking Deckers, and I’ve got STAG to worry about too. Not to mention, the Saints are still a fucking brand. I still have the business side of things to worry about.”

The Boss makes eye contact with Angel, frowning a little. 

“I have to prioritize the things I let consume me,” they continue. “We’re gonna take care of Killbane. And we’re gonna get back everything he took from you, but that is still a ways off, Angel. If I let myself obsess over and worry about every single problem I have that I can’t do anything to solve right now, I wouldn’t be able to function. I still have a gang to lead, I still have people who need me.” 

“Right,” Angel says. “And I don’t, is what you’re getting at.” The Boss sighs a little, beginning to get frustrated. Angel’s been a help to the Saints, and surely there’s got to be something he’d rather do than bust his ass training the Boss, but sometimes he can be so thick headed the Boss is pretty sure he could take a bullet to it no problem. 

“That wasn’t what I was getting at, actually,” they say. “Not directly, anyway. You can focus on Killbane entirely because that’s what works for you. I can’t, and that’s why we’re butting heads so much.” Angel falls silent again, and seems to be thinking over what the Boss has said. 

“All I’ve thought about since our match is Killbane,” he says quietly. “What he did to me, what he took from me. This is my chance to redeem myself, if not to the world but to me. I can’t fail.” The Boss smiles a little, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re not gonna fail,” they say. “I’ll fucking hand you Killbane’s head on a silver fuckin’ platter if you want, and we’ll stake it right over the door to your gym.” Angel grins a little at that. “But you gotta chill out just a bit, man. You gotta let me work the way I work, and you gotta trust that I’m gonna come through for you.” 

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost everything,” he says. 

“Yeah and I ended up in a coma for a long ass time for trusting someone once,” the Boss says, patting his shoulder and then standing back up. “So we both gotta work on it a little, okay?” 

Angel nods once and gets back on his feet. 


End file.
